


Born to Die

by violntine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Heavy Angst, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13789023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violntine/pseuds/violntine
Summary: After winning a boxing match, the night ends for Arya in a way she never expected.





	1. The glory fades

Arya had always had a knack for fighting. It was something that made her blood rush as the crowd chanted her name. At first, she had lost a handful of times and with countless bruises covering her face, it didn’t take long for parents to figure out what she was doing and complain about it. Her mother once told her out of anger that she was going to get herself killed one day and they wouldn’t care. Not even that was enough to stop her. Each night it was the same routine; wait for everyone to fall asleep and then sneak out, only to return at the crack of dawn with her cousin Jon. He always stayed up to pick her up from the club, no matter how many times she’d told him not to wait up. Eventually she stopped arguing with him and the two met at the corner of the street every morning.

However, tonight was different to most nights. Tonight she would be going up against the most feared and vicious fighter there. The Waif is what they called her, as no one used their real name. Arya was known as Little Beast, a nickname she didn’t choose herself but took a liking to it nonetheless. It described her perfectly as well, so she couldn’t complain. 

Wrapping her knuckles in a bunch of bandages, the petite girl sat in the corner, watching as the crowd entered and gathered around the small arena in the centre of the room. She was both nervous and excited for the upcoming hour, not really sure what the end result would be. Either she would be on top and crowned a winner, or she’d be covered in her own blood and laying on the hard ground. Arya was utterly motivated to not let the latter happen, no matter what. Lost in her own thoughts, the feeling of a hand resting against her shoulder brought her back to reality. She looked up only for her gaze to meet a familiar pair of eyes looking back down at her. 

“You feeling okay?” Syrio uttered with that comforting tone of voice he always had, a warm smile across his features. Arya could only nod her head, the nerves now finally getting to her. In a few minutes, she would be standing in front of the crowd with an opponent tougher than nails. That frightened her, and although she’d try to hide it, her mentor could always see through her brave facade. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Just remember to counter her attacks and dodge. Otherwise, it’ll be all over for you after one hit.” It wasn’t exactly the most motivating pep talk, but he did remind Arya of what to do once she was inside the ring. That was all she would think about now.

The sound of the bell ringing echoed throughout the room and gained the attention of all viewers, letting them know that the match was soon to start. Arya stood up and waited for the commentator of the event to announce both fighters, starting with her rival. An enormous roar from the crowd was given as soon as the Waif stepped out and into the arena, sending a hateful glare Arya’s way. She didn’t flinch or give any kind of reaction to satisfy her desire to antagonise the smaller girl. Arya would remain calm until the fight commenced, when she could finally let out all the anger she had pent up inside. Her hands clenched into a tight fist and once she was called out, she leaped forward to stand in the middle of the crowd, standing opposite of the Waif. She kept on reminding herself what Syrio had told her, repeating it like a mantra until another ring from the bell occurred, signalling that the fight was finally starting. When the Waif went to make the first move, her mind went completely blank and all she’d been taught had been forgotten. 

 

Most of the match was a complete blur to Arya. The only part she could fully remember was when the first punch was landed and the excruciating sensation that came with it. Other than that, she wasn’t entirely sure of what happened afterwards and how it concluded with the other girl laying face down, barely conscious, and her still standing. Perhaps it was just mere luck, or perhaps she was just simply a whole lot better at fighting than the Waif. Whatever it was, the crowd didn’t seem to really care. They were too busy chanting so loudly that their words were slurred and difficult to understand. Arya couldn’t stop the smile on her lips from spreading from ear to ear as she savoured the sweet feeling of achieving victory. It was the best feeling in the world. 

 

—————————

 

Before taking her leave, Arya tended to her bruises on her hands and face in the locker room, covering them up as best she could so that they wouldn’t be so noticeable tomorrow. She changed her bandages and clothes before finally retrieving the rest of her belongings and placing them into her backpack. “Goodnight, Syrio. Thanks again, for everything.” The man only shot a small smile in her direction and then continued with cleaning the room for tomorrow’s fights and training sessions. On her way out, she pulled out her phone and sent a text to Jon, informing him that she was ready to be picked up. By the time she was standing on the corner they always meet, in front of a dark alleyway, he had sent a reply back saying he was on his way. 

The cold breeze was the only thing keeping her company as she waited, that and the shimmering moon and stars above her. At least twenty minutes had gone by and there was not a single person in sight, not even Jon had made an appearance yet. But she wasn’t worried or in a rush. Hell, Jon couldn’t show up until the sun had risen and even then she wouldn’t care. It just meant she didn't have to deal with her parents anytime soon. 

“Little girl, you lost?” Arya turned her head to see a dark figure standing in front of her, their face completely covered with their hoodie. Even though their eyes weren’t visible, she could feel the person’s gaze on her and it sent chills down her spine. 

“No, I’m fine. ” The brunette responded with a stiff tone of voice, raising one of her brows when the stranger didn’t move on after she’d answered their question. “Can I help you with something?” 

They nodded their head and slowly from the corner of her eye, Arya saw a sharp object being pulled out of the pockets of their jacket. “You can die,” before she was even given a chance to react, the blade of the knife slide across her lower abdomen and a burning pain erupted from the bleeding gash, spreading throughout her body. “What the f—!” Arya groaned and grasped onto her wound, eyes widening at the sight of her own blood covering her hands.

In a feeble attempt to escape, Arya walked into the pitch-black alleyway only to be grabbed from behind and stabbed in the same region as her slash multiple times, the pain increasing and causing her breathing to become heavy. She was then violently thrown to the cold ground, head coming in contact with it abruptly. The cuts and bruises on her face had started hurting again, but those she could handle. The pain from her stomach was unbearable and like nothing she’d ever felt before.

Using all the strength in her body left, she flipped herself over so that she was now facing upwards and her attacker who was still watching a now frail Arya cower. “That’ll teach you to make a mockery out of me in front of everyone.” She leaned forward and smoothly slid the serrated edge across her cheek, cutting her deeply. “Remember your place, little beast.” After that, she was gone and Arya was left alone to bleed out; to die.


	2. the wolves all cry

With her knees pressed up against her chest, tears rolled down her cheeks and onto the pillow she was holding onto. Sansa and Jeyne had made a mockery out of her once again, embarrassing her in front of those she considered friends, and they all laughed at her. Now she felt as if she was alone, no one to side with her. 

Slowly, from the corner of her eye, she saw the door open and for moment, she thought it was her sister. “Get out!” She threw the pillow she was holding onto towards the doorway and heard it come in contact with the person, followed by a low grunt. “Hey! What did I do wrong?” Jon exclaimed, furrowing his brows. Arya sat up and quickly wiped her face clear. “Sorry, Jon. I thought you were Sansa,” she explained, patting the spot beside her, gesturing for him to come sit next to her. He did so in silence and didn’t say anything for a few seconds as he moved one arm around her, gently pulling her closer. There was no sign of hesitation from her and she shut her eyes once she was close enough to rest her head against his shoulder. 

If there was one thing Jon could do, it was instantly make her feel better from just giving her hugs. All the pain felt as if it was being washed away and being replaced with a sense of security, like she was finally safe. 

“Don’t let them get to you, okay? Sansa and Jeyne are idiots…” The male eventually spoke, squeezing her gently when things fell silent again. Arya knew that he was right, that she shouldn’t get so worked up about the things her sister did, but she couldn’t help it. With her short temper, Arya was like a bomb, set to go off at any moment. 

“I know, but that doesn’t mean that everything they say isn’t true..” With a low sigh, she nestled into his touch when he begun stroking her hair lovingly. “It isn’t true, Arya. You’re amazing just the way you are. And in my opinion, Sansa isn’t anything special…” He murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to her temple in hopes to lighten her mood. She only curled up closer against him in response, accepting his warmth and endeavours to make her feel better. 

“I love you, Jon.” Her eyes slowly shut and before she drifted into a deep sleep, she heard him say those three little words back. 

“I love you too…”

————————— 

 

A dull voice gradually became clearer and louder as she laid on the ground in a pool of her own blood. There was a moment where it felt this was just a bad dream, one she’d experienced many times before. Soon she’d wake up and it’d be just another normal day in the Starks household. She’d annoy her sister, get in trouble with her parents and then spend the rest of the afternoon causing all sorts of mischief with her brothers. The only problem was that this wasn’t a nightmare or a dream. This was real. Arya could tell from the stinging pain from her abdomen that worsened when a piece of clothing was pressed down against her gash to slow down the bleeding and her head was rested on a man’s lap, a familiar face looking down at her with such sorrow upon it. She blinked a few times before everything became clear and she realised who it was clinging onto her like his life depended on it. 

Jon. 

“Hey…You finally made it.” Her lips twisted into a weak smile, only to fade away a second later when she’d begun to cough and gasp for air. Talking seemed to be such a difficult task now. 

“Shh, don’t speak. You need to save your energy.” Jon stated, trying to keep his tone as relentless as possible. It was pointless, though. She knew him well enough to know when he was crying. He always wrinkled his nose to stop the tears and held his head low so no one would notice. 

“It hurts, Jon…It hurts so much.” She exhaled deeply, her eyes now filled to the brim with tears she refused to let fall. Even in her current condition, Arya didn’t want to appear as weak. She would stay strong, or at least try, until her very last breath. 

“I know, but don’t worry, I’ve gotten someone to go get help. They’ll be back soon and you’ll be okay!” There was a split second where Arya believed him; where she believed everything would be okay and she’d live to tell the tale of how she survived an attack, maybe even show off her scars to Lommy, Hot Pie, and Gendry. 

All hope of that happening was quick to wither away when she remembered what her mother told her a few days ago, how she was bound to get herself killed from acting so reckless. Now it was becoming a reality and she could hear Catelyn’s voice in her head saying how she should’ve listened to her.

And she was right. Arya had made many mistakes in her life because she hadn’t listened to her mother, and this one was costing her the most. 

Shaking her head, she lifted her hand to tightly clench onto Jon’s shirt, pulling him closer as she struggled to speak. “J-Jon… You need to tell my mum and dad how sorry I am. Tell my mum I should’ve listened to her and she was right, about everything,” a pause transpired just for her to fill her lungs with enough air to continue speaking. As each moment passed, Arya could feel herself becoming weaker and losing all sensation in her body.

“T-tell them all I’m sorry….and that I love them so much. I wish we could have more time…” By then, Arya’s cheeks were wet from the tears now falling non-stop from her red eyes and Jon’s. 

“Stop talking like this! You can tell them this yourself because you’re going to live! We'll go back home together and everything will go back to normal.” Jon tightened his grip around her and continued to put pressure down on her wound as if the harder he pushed, the more likely she’d have a chance of getting out of this alive.

She could only faintly laugh at his useless efforts and how he was in denial. 

“Jon…Please..” Arya pleaded softly before promptly falling silent with her eyes slightly shutting. Her vision was going blurry again and all the sounds around her were now unclear, from her cousin’s voice to the car alarms going off in the distance.

“Arya! Stay with me!” Her eyes only opened wide enough to notice his panicked expression swiftly changing to one filled with relief at her mere response. It was a shame that wouldn’t last long. 

“..I love you, Jon. Don’t forget about me, okay?” She somehow managed to utter beneath her rapid breathing, unsure of whether or not he actually heard her. He was too focused on the sirens from the ambulance growing louder and the red lights now illuminating the alleyway they sat in. 

The last thing she saw before she drew her last breath was Jon looking up at the paramedics with a hopeful smile. That hurt her more than anything. 

Then there was nothing but darkness, her entire body now lifeless. She didn’t even hear the gut-wrenching scream that echoed throughout the street, signifying for all that the Stark girl had finally met her demise.


End file.
